Nevada's HUD
by AphoticSymbiote
Summary: This is the point of view of Freelancer Nevada. Spartan of the UNSC Freelancer project. A look at Nevada's arrival and his struggle to fit in with the rest of the crew, along with his AI, Omicron. Although... he may be stronger than he seems. Directly from the story 'The Purple Figure in My Mind' by my good friend HydraFlow who you should definitely check out.
1. Fist Arrival

My name is Jamie. I'm a Freelancer - well - newly recruited Freelancer Spartan of the UNSC's project of awesome elite super soldiers. I go by the codename Nevada, named after a state in the United States, Earth, along with my other soon to be teammates. I first joined the Spartan program when I was 14 years old, a little older than most. Well a lot older, actually. I guess you could technically say I'm a late bloomer or a "Newbie" as my past coach used to call me. I haven't seen a lot of action but I'd been promised (Honestly it sounded more like a threat) I'd come across it frequently as a Freelancer… A Freelancer. Me. Wow. I wonder why they picked me among my more experienced peers. They never told me why and I never felt right to question my superiors. I was considered the nerd or "shellhead" of my little trainee squadron. The nickname sort of stuck due to numerous accounts of blowing myself through doors in attempt to create some sweet new piece of… hardware… That's why the CQC helmet stays on during experiments. I like to think I have quite an inspired imagination but my engineering skills have been a little rusty lately on my almost endless journey to my new headquarters, moving from spacestation, to spacestation. I hope they've got a durable lab… I've researched the Freelancers. I've heard stories about them. The fact I'm on my way there seems ridiculous. They don't expect me to really go on missions with them do they?

My muscles start to tense up and I stare into the tranquility of space through the pilot's window, sitting forward in my awkwardly signature "I'm going to wet myself" position, waiting in anticipation of my final destination past the upcoming planet. With what felt like a hundred hours passing, I looked beyond, in awe of a shine rising from the horizon. My heart started to pound through my chest at the sight of one of the most beautiful ships I had ever laid my visor upon. My mind imploded when we landed in the bay and I stumbled out in exhaustion and admiration.

"You sexy thing." I thought, catching my breath, already finding an oddly terrifying sense of home but none of belonging, anxiety building at the thought of meeting the team of legendary characters.

"I see you've acquainted yourself with our little beauty" A southern accent caught my attention as a gloved hand rested itself firmly on my right shoulder.

I suddenly stood to attention, stuttering

"F-Freelancer Nevada, reporting for duty, sir!"

"At ease, soldier" Ordered the Director. A man in dressed in a tight, black UNSC uniform. A note taken that I knew would determine my future aboard this ship. But his face was blacked out by the lighting behind him. He waved his hand down and continued.

"If what I've heard about you I true, you're just what Project Freelancer has been searching for, for many a year." He pointed to my chest and I looked down, stunned and confused but retained my cool that I obviously have.

"You're in with the big boys now, son. Prove to me that I made the right decision. Come with me."

He turned and marched down the bay as I followed, scanning my environment in amazement, intrigued by the unfamiliar tech on the surrounding surfaces and ships and the armour of those who worked and marched passed us. My heart started racing again in excitement. I couldn't wait to have time to play with all this epic new gear. I almost squealed embarrassingly out of passion but remembered I was also a soldier and my work here should be taken with as much seriousness as Humanly possible. I looked dead ahead as we walked, feeling like I was pat of something so much bigger than what I had previously known. Through the dark archway into pure blackness I looked around, attempting to grow accustomed to the visual obscurity as I stacked a little on an upcoming step. Suddenly a single light blasted on above us, circling the nonchalant Director and I. Then with flickering dominos of glowing stars, the room was illuminated as the metallic blinds rose from surrounding glass incasing us. More lights jumped to life as the Director stepped towards the window and offered me a seat.


	2. A Meeting With the Boss

I pulled up the chair behind the desk and sat down. My orange little bundle of nerdy confidence, also known as my goggle rocking AI, Omicron, who I've been unintentionally ignoring since my arrival due to all the excitement, digitally materialized within my Heads Up Display and whispered in my ear

"This is amazing. He chose YOU of all people. This has got to be awesome."

I could tell he was buzzing with excitement, despite his tendency to keep his "cool" during these kind of situations, he had a big stupid grin on his face.

"You know for an AI designed to instill confidence, you're not exactly helping all that much." I hissed at him, attempting to refrain from creating any kind of involuntary body movement in my chair.

"I assume you're wondering about your position aboard this ship, Agent Nevada." The Director cut in suddenly, making me tense up in my seat.

"Uh- Yes sir. Of course."

"I want you." He pivoted around one foot, facing me with his arms folded behind his back and staring coldly into my visor, causing my spine to freeze. He could tell I was nervous but luckily for me he chose to share this knowledge with an unsettling stare… Yeah. Lucky me.

"I want to place you in position of Tactician for Project Freelancer." He began again. My eyes blew open. I was shocked. What the… I didn't know what to say. This had to be a mistake but I couldn't question my superior, and that's what terrified me.

"Whoa" Omicron was just as surprised as I was. The difference was where my expression was of pure confusion and motionless panic; his was of awe and extolment.

"Go for it!" A gaping smile crossed his literally glowing face and I stared at him in deathly objection.

"And I hope to be working closely with your little friend there" The strong southern accent grew louder. Omicron screwed his nose up and continued to smile.

Oh god. I forgot to mute voice transmitter.

"Do you want a little time alone with him?" I whispered to sir golden lightning, growing scared of what he might say next.

"I'm sure you're aware of what the position of Tactician entails. You'll be responsible for input on the strategic development of upcoming missions. I've been told that logical thinking is your strong suit." The Director sat down in front of me and interlocked his fingers as he continued,

"I've also heard that you're quite an introverted and brilliant thinker, which is why I've taken the liberty of arranging your own private lab. I assure you there's a lot of fun to be had there" A smile broke out in the corner of my mouth and as he went on, it advanced further across my animated, nerdy face.

"I trust any new doohickeys you come up with in the future may also be proclaimed to our gizmo boys and possibly... Eventually see some **real** action out on the field" He winked. I was exited. That was it. I was exited. No more to say. My skin buzzed, my fingers twitched, my limbs vibrated, my eyes shone.

"Are you okay?" Omicron knocked on my helmet, laughing before I switched him off.

"Quiet, you" I said, jokily. The Director extended his hand and I shook it.

Half an hour of discussion later we mutually agreed now would be a good time to meet the team. However. His idea of "meeting" was a little far from what I had expected.


End file.
